


A Thousand Lifetimes

by MockJayPhoenix



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Death Fix, Drama, Fix-It, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Protective!Margo, S4E13, post s4e13
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-20 14:54:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18527350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MockJayPhoenix/pseuds/MockJayPhoenix
Summary: Eliot only wants to say goodbye, but can it really be that simple?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my basic ass fix-it fic but since I'm only human I'm pretending the romantic side of the Qualice reunion in those last couple of episodes didn't happen. I hope someone feels a little better after reading it! That finale was evil to Queliot and Qualice shippers alike, and to, well, most every other fan. Please comment! <3 More chapters to come!

“We don’t keep things like that from each other, El. Not a goddamned lifetime.”

Eliot stared blankly into the glass cradled between his palms, empty since he’d begun to tell Margo the whole story. They sat alone on the couch, still smelling of smoke from the fire. Eliot could see through the window that it had long since burnt out.

A sob tried to rise in his throat, but he held it back for now. He wasn’t finished yet. He told Margo about his most feared memory, how he’d turned Quentin down.

“If I hadn’t been such a coward,” Eliot murmured, “maybe he wouldn’t have been so determined to stay at Blackspire, and we would’ve figured something else out, then the monster wouldn’t have gotten me and he wouldn’t have had to to die to save everyone.”

“Quentin was always determined to die for the rest of us,” Margo remarked. “The nerd had balls, I’ll give him that. You wouldn’t have known it to look at him.”

Eliot certainly hadn’t when they’d first met. Quentin might have jumped at his own shadow, but when it came to staying at Brakebills and helping the people he cared about, it might have been his fear that made him so special in the way he faced it. Like how he’d stood up to the monster and to his own friends when it came to keeping Eliot safe.

Eliot set his glass aside, dropping his face into his hands as he began to cry for the first time since he’d heard the news. He’d thought he would feel better once he had, but he didn’t see how anything could ever help him past this shock.

Margo wrapped her arms around him with a gentle sigh. “I’m so sorry, Eliot.”

Eliot leaned into her shoulder. The sympathies didn’t help. Nothing could help. “I don’t believe it,” he told his friend in a whisper. “There’s no body. There’s nothing. …I don’t know what to do, Bambi.”

Margo pulled back, holding his face in her hands as her eyes transfixed his own. “Now you live. You don’t have to do anything right now, you just live. That’s what Q wanted. That’s what I want.”

'But right now I don’t.' Eliot held back the words. He couldn’t hurt Margo like that, not after what she’d already been through, but he couldn’t shake the thought.

“...I just wish I could’ve said goodbye. I wish I could have said anything.”

Margo let her hands slide to his shoulders. “I know. And I know that saying that doesn’t help you. ...But I understand. And it’ll get easier, even if it doesn’t seem like it will.”

'I have to say goodbye.' Eliot was grateful that this was another thing he’d neglected to say out loud, because when the thought came to him he realized that he would devote every waking moment from that point on to finding a way to contact Q.

And if he was going to use the method he had in mind, that wasn’t something Margo needed to know yet.

“Want me to fix you another drink?” she asked.

Eliot shook his head. He needed his head clear for this. “I think I need to be alone for a little while.”

“Okay.” Margo kissed his forehead and smiled up at him with tears in her eyes. “I missed you, Eliot.”

He managed a tender smile in return. “I missed you too, Margo.”

As soon as he heard her bedroom door close, Eliot limped to a bookshelf in the corner, dropping a few volumes carefully to the floor before lowering himself beside them. He sifted through for a few minutes before he heard a door open upstairs and froze.

Alice drifted down the stairs in a yellow nightgown, gravitating to the kitchen where Eliot heard subtle popping noises after a couple of minutes. She came into the room where Eliot was, bringing the rich aroma of bacon with her as she sat on the couch, still unaware of his presence.

Afraid of his intentions being discovered, Eliot remained motionless in the corner until he heard her start to cry.

An ugly thought presented itself in Eliot’s mind. 'What kind of grief does she have the right to feel for someone that I spent a lifetime with?'

Tears pricked his eyes again. Quentin had loved Alice, and she’d been his friend too, at times. One thing he knew for sure was that she’d loved Q. She was as justified as he was for her feelings.

He set the books aside quietly before getting to his feet. Alice lifted her face from her hands with a small gasp of surprise when he sat down beside her.

She studied him for a moment, as if unsure of what he wanted. Eliot put an arm around her shoulders. She slowly melted against him, setting her plate on the coffee table before resting her head against his chest.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save him,” she cried.

Eliot shook his head, stroking her hair. “I know it wasn’t your fault, Alice.”

“It wasn’t supposed to happen that way. If we’d just moved a little faster…” She shook her head against him. “I don’t know if it would’ve made any difference.”

Eliot frowned, stifling his curiosity for her sake. “None of you could’ve known what would happen,” he said. “It’s not your fault, or Q’s, or Penny’s.”

“I know it wasn’t Penny’s fault, but if I was enough for Q, maybe he would’ve run!” She sobbed hard, digging her fists into Eliot’s shirt while he held on, struggling for words. What did she mean by that?

When she’d finally quieted, he spoke delicately, as if the volume of his words would affect what he had to ask next, or what the answer might be.

“Alice… How did you and Penny escape?”

“He pulled me back,” she said. “We ran.”

Eliot didn’t want to press her further, but he had to know what she wasn’t saying. “Would you tell me everything that happened, please?”

Alice took a deep, steadying breath. “Before Quentin could throw the second jar into the seam, Everett appeared. He demanded that Q give him the jar and broke the mirror before he could throw it. I told them they couldn’t cast in the mirror world- Q knew what would happen, he knew…” She rubbed her eyes clear, pulling away from Eliot. “Everett got between us. Q cast a mending charm to repair the mirror and throw the jar into it, and-” Her face contorted in pain as her voice faltered again. “He started to run, but then he stopped.”

Her eyes met Eliot’s wildly. “He fucking stopped. Why would he do that, Eliot?”

Eliot frowned, still numbly stroking her thin, light hair as he fought the urge to deny her words. “I’m sure that- he must’ve- there must’ve been a reason,” he stammered.

Alice sobbed bitterly, shaking her head. “It’s because I hurt him,” she cried. “It’s my fault. I broke his heart.”

Eliot’s eyes widened. “I hurt him too, Alice. ...While you were still a Niffin, he wanted us to give it a shot. And I turned him down because I didn’t think he could really want me, but… I think I broke his heart that day too.” He was surprised how by easily he could tell this to Alice, the person he’d once considered a rival. None of that seemed important anymore.

Alice wrung her hands over her lap, biting her lip to keep from crying anymore. While tears fell silently down Eliot’s own face, he was aware that the meaning of what he’d just learned hadn’t really hit him yet.

They sat quietly in their guilt and sorrow for a few minutes, an unspoken camaraderie resting between them. Alice picked up the abandoned plate from the table, holding it out to Eliot. Eating was the last thing on his mind, but unwilling to risk their sudden rapport, he took a piece with a gentle word of thanks.

When they’d emptied the plate, Alice broke the silence. “I just… wish I knew what he was thinking.”

Eliot’s resolve to keep his intentions a secret had dissolved under their tears. “I know a way to find out.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Is it ready?” Eliot asked when Alice paused over the simmering concoction in the steel bowl on the table, knife in hand. She’d been the one to ask Penny for the stone knife from a museum in Hong Kong. Her story had been that it was a tool to help Eliot heal faster, and that she needed a project to keep busy after losing Q.

She hesitated now, a frown creasing her forehead. “I don’t know how long you’ll be conscious for. Eliot, when you see him, tell him I’m sorry.”

He nodded, but he wasn’t sure that when he made it to Q he would be selfless enough to speak for anyone else.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

A smile crept up Eliot’s face. “It’s the only thing I’m sure of.”

“We have all the right ingredients, but there’s still a risk.”

“Alice, you’re the most skilled magician I’ve ever met. I have to do this, and I’m glad that it’s you.”

She nodded gravely. “Did you say anything to Margo?”

“If she knew, she’d try to stop us.”

As if on cue, the sound of car speeding towards the cottage interrupted them, screeching to a halt dangerously close to the front door.

A weight of guilt settled in Eliot’s gut when Margo swung the door open and marched towards him, wearing a solid black eyepatch.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she demanded.

“How did-” Alice let the question drift off when Margo picked her fairy eye off the shelf, discarding the patch when she pushed it back into place.

Eliot’s own eyes widened. “I did not realize you could do that.”

Margo’s sharp glare flicked between them. “Since I don’t have an ear to pop off, somebody tell me what you two buffoons are trying to pull.”

Eliot laid a hand on her shoulder, almost feeling the rage emanating off her skin. “Bambi… I just want to say goodbye to him. There’s so much I needed to tell him, and this way I at least get a few minutes.”

“And how close to actual death will that put you?”

“It’ll take two hours for him to reach a point where he can enter the underworld,” Alice explained. “About ten minutes after that I have to give him the antidote.”

“‘About’ ten? What happens if you wait eleven minutes?”

Alice gave a slight shrug. “He might still be fine.”

“Well, that’s about as precise as a damn Bigfoot documentary.” She frowned at Eliot. “How do I know you won’t find a way to stay down there?”

He forced a smile. “If I was trying to kill myself, there are such easier ways.”

“Maybe, but that’s not your style.”

“I won’t.” Eliot raised his hand to her face, his thumb brushing over her cheek. “You told me yesterday that you understand. If it was me, I know you’d do the same thing.”

Her breaths were heavy with concern, but finally she asked, “Do you have the antidote already made?”

Alice laid her hand over a jar on the table. Margo picked it up, cradling it against her stomach.

“You’d better be careful,” she told Eliot.

“I promise,” he answered, leaning down to kiss her on the cheek.

Alice cast a spell to bring the poison bowl to a boil and held the knife over it to collect the steam. Once it was dripping, Eliot laid down on the couch and held out his hand.

He winced as she made a cut down his palm. “You’re as ruthless as Fen with-”

The next thing he knew he was in an elevator with a sense that time had passed, but how much time, he couldn’t gauge. The elevator wasn’t moving, and there were no buttons to be seen. After a few seconds he began to panic. He’d only have a few minutes, and he couldn’t waste them here.

He pried at the doors until his fingers ached, but noticed that there was no pain in his side where his injury had been. When he finally got the doors to open a crack, he was relieved to see the waystation Quentin had described to him before, the one he’d gone through with Julia to find her shade.

A face appeared at the other side of the door, startling him.

“Hang on, we’ll get you right out of there,” the owner of the face said in an unnaturally cheerful voice.

“Can you hurry?” Eliot asked. The man brought over two others who pulled the sliding doors far apart enough for Eliot to slip through.

“Sorry about that,” the first man said. “We haven’t had a malfunction in quite a while. What’s your name?”

Eliot hesitated. “I’m looking for Quentin Coldwater.”

“Well,” the man laughed, “that’s not an answer.”

“Please, he should have arrived a few days ago and I want to see him.”

“There’ll be plenty of time for that. Now if you’ll just give me your name, sir.”

“...John Smith,” Eliot said, too flustered to come up with something more convincing. He looked around, taking small steps back and away from the two guards. There were doors along some of the walls, some wooden and plain, others bright and welcoming. But where was Q? Eliot didn’t see him in the waiting area.

Had he already moved on?

“We’re not expecting a John Smith today. Wait here a moment while I check the system. You might just be experiencing a near death experience.”

The man disappeared behind a counter while the two guards remained on either side of Eliot. There was no point diverting suspicion- they knew he was up to something. If he could just get away from them long enough to see what was behind those doors…

Then he saw it. Not a door, but a grandfather clock with Ember and Umber’s heads carved into the wood at the top.

Eliot bolted, adrenaline rising as he heard footsteps behind him. He skidded to a stop in front of it, pulling on the handle.

It didn’t open. Panic surged as Eliot knocked on it rapidly. “Q, open the door!”

The guards grabbed at him just as the door swung open. Eliot wrestled out of his coat, leaving it in their hands as he ducked inside.

The door shut with a snap behind him, locking itself. Eliot found himself not in a room, but just outside of a cottage in the middle of the woods. There was a vegetable garden on either side of an empty white square. Colorful tiles surrounded it. And there on the couch next to it, sat Quentin.


	3. Chapter 3

“Q.” Eliot rushed towards him, surprised when Quentin sprang to his feet and backed away.

“Stop!” Q demanded, holding his hand out resolutely though his eyes betrayed confusion.

“Q,” Eliot repeated, unable to form the question he wanted to ask. It felt like forever ago that he laid eyes on the real Q, if the afterlife even counted. His face was red and his eyes puffy, as if he’d spent days crying.

“What spell did you use to get here?” Quentin asked him.

Eliot sifted through his memory. Everything after he’d been possessed by the monster seemed like a dream now, even what happened mere hours ago. “Alcander’s transcendence spell.”

Q’s eyebrows twitched upward. “It’s a weak spell, but probably the only alternative without a dragon.”

“But why can’t I-” Eliot stepped forward again, hardly of his own volition, aching to wrap Q in his arms finally…

“If you touch me, you’ll get trapped here,” Quentin explained, as he lost the struggle against his tears. “I wish you hadn’t.”

Eliot let out a light, injured breath, his hands clenching into fists with the effort of restraining them. “I just- I wanted…” The confession he’d planned so carefully, the one he’d gone over in his mind so many times and waited so long to say- it didn’t seem important now. He needed answers.

“Alice told me what happened, Q, but I need to know-”

“What’s done is done, it doesn’t make any difference now, El-”

“Did you mean to stop?” Eliot searched his eyes desperately. While he feared what he might find, he feared never knowing even more. “Were you just… I don’t know, making sure the spell worked?”

Though he was still crying, Quentin looked angry, but not at Eliot. He gave a shallow nod, staring at the white pavement between them. “I knew. I knew it worked.” A snort of laughter escaped him. “That was my discipline. ‘Repair of small objects.’” He shrugged widely, forcing a smile. “I finally found it.”

Eliot was still absorbing the meaning of the answer he’d just received. He knew. He knew. He studied Quentin carefully.

“If I was able to help people, if I was able to help you, Eliot, then my life meant something.” Q nodded, as if to convince himself.

“Well,” Eliot whispered in shock, “I suppose it’s easier to say that and tap out than to keep on living.”

Q frowned at him. “Eliot, I did everything I needed to do. Don’t try to tell me that wasn’t enough.”

“How dare you?” Eliot snapped. “You haven’t done everything you needed to do- your life wasn’t meant to end like this! Do you really think that this would be good enough? How could you do this to all the people who care about you- how could you do this to me?”

Regret overwhelmed Eliot as Quentin’s eyes filled and he sobbed. Eliot pinched the bridge of his nose and wiped the tears from his own eyes.

“Q, I’m sorry, I don’t want you to remember me like that. I just miss you, sweetheart. I came here because I wanted to thank you for saving my life and to tell you I wish I’d given us a chance, and I’ve fucking ruined it.”

Q took a deep breath. “How much time do we have?”

Eliot felt the seconds slipping away. “Not much. Not nearly enough.”

Quentin combed his hair back, staring at the ground and burying his hands in his hoodie pockets. He stuttered for a minute, unable to express what he was feeling. Eliot fought the urge to rush him.

“I w-... I was afraid, Eliot,” Q whispered brokenly. “I’ve been afraid my whole fucking life, but I just couldn’t take it anymore. I didn’t think it through- I didn’t plan it, it just… happened.” His eyes burned into Eliot’s, full of pain. “I know I fucked up. I know this shouldn’t have happened, but I was so tired, El. So tired of fighting gods, fighting monsters- fighting myself. Do you have any idea what it’s like to not be able to get out of bed in the morning for weeks on end because nothing can make you feel anything? Knowing that the only things you’re likely to ever feel again are gonna tear you apart inside, and no one will ever know because they can’t fucking see it?”

Eliot clenched his jaw and shook his head.

“I felt myself going back there, El. And I knew that no matter what happened, I wasn’t any better than when I first came to Brakebills. I knew I’d done all I could to save you, and… I wanted you to be happy without me, with someone else... but I didn’t wanna see it. And at least if I died saving my friends, you wouldn’t think I was a coward.”

“I’ve never thought that,” Eliot replied softly, taking a cautious step forward. “Q, you’re the bravest person I’ve ever met. I’m sorry I didn’t understand.” He let out a conflicted sigh. “This is my fault,” he realized. “If I would’ve told you how I really felt-”

“It’s done, Eliot,” Quentin urged. “Please don’t beat yourself up about this.”

They both jumped when a knock came at the door. “Please exit the simulation,” came the voice of the man Eliot had first seen. “We’ll get to you one way or another.”

His words were followed by loud banging that echoed through the “forest.”

Eliot’s time would be up soon even if they couldn’t get inside. He took another small step towards Q, who backed up even further. “I’m not done,” Eliot cried. “There’s so much more we could’ve had together- we should’ve had.”

Q smiled softly. “We had a lifetime together, El.”

Eliot shook his head. “I could live a thousand lifetimes with you, Q, and it still wouldn’t be enough.”

The banging resounded again. Eliot looked around, painfully aware that nearly every detail was as he remembered it.

“Why the mosaic, Q? We spent decades struggling with this damn thing. Couldn’t you have picked anything?”

Q hesitated, but seemed to decide that Eliot deserved the truth. “I didn’t pick it. It picked me.”

“Why?”

The banging almost drowned out Quentin’s next words- almost.

“...Because here with you is where I felt the happiest.”

Eliot felt his face twist in pain, his knuckles white from resisting the desire to touch his dearest friend. Long nights of taking turns putting tiles into place flashed through his mind. Long nights of forgetting the mosaic even existed accompanied those memories. Playful mornings when he’d chase Quentin around the cottage with a bucket of water, spilling more on himself than he was able to dump on Q. Teaching Teddy to read and write, and bickering over whose handwriting and grammar was better.

The days Eliot had to coax Quentin out of bed in the morning. The times he tried everything under the sun just to get Q to smile- and god, was that smile worth it.

The one night after Teddy had left when they finally admitted to each other that they wished the puzzle would take a lifetime.

Eliot knew he would never find that with anyone else. Didn’t that kind of love carry magic in its own right?

He finally unclenched his fists. “There’s something else I need to tell you.”

“What?” Q asked.

Eliot shuffled slightly closer. “That you taught me to do whatever it takes to help the people you love. …Even if it means going out on a limb.”

With those words he rushed forward and trapped Q in a hug, one arm around his back while the other held Quentin’s head to his chest.

Q struggled half-heartedly against him. “What the hell are you doing?”

“If there’s any chance that this can work the other way, that I can take you with me, then I have to take it.”

Q let out a sob. “Eliot…”

“You taught me to be brave, Q. I’m not ready to let you go.” He buried his nose into Q’s hair, clinging to him desperately. “I need you.”

Quentin’s body relaxed against his. When he reached up to clutch Eliot’s arms, Eliot pulled back to hold Q’s face in his hands.

“I love you, Quentin,” he whispered with a smile, leaning closer. “I love you so much…”

Eliot woke with a start, aware of a bitter taste in his mouth as well as Margo and Alice both hovering over him.

“Wh-” he coughed as the antidote trickled down his throat. “Where’s Quentin?”

The girls looked worried, exchanging a brief glance.

“Eliot, just lie here for a minute, okay?” Margo urged, making Eliot realize that he’d been struggling to sit up. Without full control of his body, he lay helpless, sifting through the conversation he’d just had with Q in the underworld.

His blood ran cold. Q wasn’t here. It hadn’t worked.

When tears pricked his eyes, he noticed that his face was already damp.

“What did he say?” Alice asked.

“Give him a damned minute,” Margo berated her. Eliot looked up at his oldest friend, blinking his eyes clear.

“I thought I could save him, Bambi…”

“Shh, you need to rest, Eliot. You’ll feel better soon, I promise.”

He didn’t notice that Alice was looking over her shoulder until she stammered, “What the hell? Margo, did you see that?”

They were looking over their shoulders, at a spot on the floor they blocked from Eliot’s field of vision. He turned his face away, too busy with his own grief to be bothered until he heard Margo’s confused whisper.

“Coldwater?”

Eliot’s limbs still felt like they were filled with lead, but he found the strength to take Margo’s arm, prompting her to shift from where she’d been sitting so that he could see what had caught their interest.

Specks of gold were zipping out of the mirror above the fireplace, down to form a body on the floor.

Quentin’s body.

“I didn’t think it was possible,” Alice exclaimed, looking back to Eliot.

“You understand what’s happening?” Margo asked her.

Alice shook her head, but answered. “I’ve only heard stories- I thought they just bullshit fairy tales, but-”

Eliot’s eyes were clear enough now that he saw both wonder and envy in hers.

“I think you loved him enough to bring him back.”

“Holy shit,” Margo murmured, never taking her eyes off the floor. When Quentin’s body had fully formed, he jolted, gasping for air.

Alice dropped to the floor beside him, placing a careful hand on his shoulder. “Q,” she laughed. “Oh my god…”

Quentin looked around in a daze until his eyes found Eliot’s. “El,” he breathed, struggling to sit up.

The moment he moved, Eliot let himself more or less fall off the couch, forcing his limbs to comply just enough to drag himself towards Quentin while Margo stuck her arms under his to help. Alice moved aside, allowing Q to lift himself on one elbow and greet Eliot with an eager kiss. Eliot feared this was a dream or some trippy feature of the underworld even as Q buried his fingers in his hair.

But the strain of holding himself up sent of jolt of pain through his stomach. He smiled against Q’s lips and slid his arms around his back. Unable to support his weight, Quentin fell back against the floor with little choice but to take Eliot with him.

“Shit,” he chuckled, holding Eliot firmly against his own chest.

Eliot wasn’t sure whether the physical contact or hearing Q laugh was what triggered a sob from deep inside him, but once he started crying, he couldn’t stop. Q kissed his head reverently, running his fingers through curly hair.

“You didn’t think you could abandon us that easily, did you?” Margo teased.

“I should’ve known better,” Q answered.

When he’d kissed every inch of Eliot’s face that could reach, and Eliot had cried his eyes dry, Q whispered, “You’re crushing me a little bit.”  
Eliot squeezed him tighter.

Q snorted.

“I’m never letting you go again.”

“...That might make some basic tasks kinda difficult.”

“We’ll figure it out.” Eliot lifted his head, smiling down at his soulmate. “I know we will.”

Q nodded in reply with a gentle smile of his own. “That sounds good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm aware that I went full "Once Upon a Time" on this bitch and I regret nothing. A final, largely fluff chapter to come next!


End file.
